


To Be Her Home

by fallintothegrey



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallintothegrey/pseuds/fallintothegrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne is plagued by memories of her first husband, Edward, and the pain of their marriage bed on her wedding night with Richard. Richard tries to help her heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Her Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> I am new to Archive of Our Own and I am very excited about posting some of my writings here. 
> 
> This is my first story for The White Queen and I know the idea isn't terribly original, but after watching the entire series in less than 24 hours, I felt the need to explore some of the emotions Anne would have probably been experiencing on her wedding night with Richard in an attempt to fill the hole that was left by the image of Richard laying on ground covered in blood at the end of the series. I needed to think of a happier time for my new OTP or I would have dissolved into a giant puddle of tears.
> 
> This is also my first attempt at writing a sex scene, so please go gentle on me. I would welcome any suggestions to improve future writings. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

She had dreamt of Richard for almost as long as she could remember. As children, she had followed him like an obedient puppy, always searching out his dark curls over the hedges of the garden at her father’s Warwick castle. He had been a playfellow in the early days of his wardship, the brother she would never have. She couldn’t say she’d recognized when she fell in love with him; perhaps it happened as they both grew up, when he separated himself to focus on training with the other boys, becoming the dark presence she gazed at in the distance. The only thing she knew was that when she came to court for Edward’s coronation and saw him with his head held high in all his finery, her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of him. She turned into a blithering idiot around him, blushing fiercely at his puzzled gaze and her sister’s mocking laughter. But she couldn’t stop how she felt about him. 

She had made the mistake of hoping that since the York family was rising, since her sister was destined to marry George, that maybe, just maybe she could marry Richard. Even after Edward refused her father permission for her to marry Richard, she didn’t give up hope, especially when Isabel married George against the King’s wishes. But she should have known her father. The Kingmaker wouldn’t take the marriage of his daughter lightly, even his youngest daughter, especially once Isabel’s star began to wane. She had foolishly thought that her father wouldn’t use her as a pawn; kneeling at the front of the church next of Edward Lancaster, she realized with the sinking in her chest, that she had been so very wrong. And as she cried during her wedding night, Edward thrusting painfully into her over and over, grunting and sweating, she had never felt more hollow. 

Standing in Richard’s chambers now, hours after kneeling at her second marriage, the hollow feeling returned to her stomach. Richard told her that he loved her, that he hadn’t married her just for her fortune. But she feared what kind of man would enter the room in minutes. Would he hurt her like Edward had? Would he stare at her with the same dead eyes? The fear grew, gnawing at every fiber of her being until she was shaking so much that she could hear her skirts rustling around her trembling knees. 

She stilled momentarily when the door opened, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of her new husband, dressed in only a tunic open at the neck and dark breeches. He closed the door silently behind him, never taking his eyes off of her face, before moving in three quick strides towards her. He hesitated inches from her, his dark eyes leaving hers momentarily to rest on her lips. She chewed on her bottom lip self-consciously, before smiling lightly. The flicker of doubt in Richard’s eyes told her that the smile had looked more like a grimace. Her eyes dropped off of his face, looking down towards their feet. She couldn’t help but notice his bare feet next to her embroidered shoes hidden under yards of fabric. She was still in all of her wedding finery, too nervous to let anyone into the room after the ceremony to help her undress. Thankful that her status as a widow meant that they could avoid the humiliating bedding ceremony, she shut herself into the room and refused all visitors and all offers of food, only taking the wine and quickly drinking a cup. She suddenly felt even more self-conscious, and a deep crimson blush crept up her neck and cheeks. She was more embarrassed to notice that it colored the tops of her breasts, pushed up in the tight fitting gown. 

Suddenly, Richard’s cool fingers rested under her chin, lifting her face up and forcing her to meet his eyes.  
“Anne,” he breathed, and she thought her heart might stop. No titles, no formality, just her name. And it had never sounded as beautiful on anyone else’s lips. He smiled at her, a smile that warmed his eyes, while he reached behind her to undo her necklace, letting it fall to the floor. His deft hands let down her hair next, the brown ringlets falling to her waist. He pulled a lock over her shoulder and twisted it around his finger, before gently tugging to bring her closer to him. She caught her breath as she nearly stumbled into his chest, feeling the solid planes of muscle through the fabric of her dress as the hand that appeared on the small of her back pushed her flush to his body. 

He pressed a light kiss to her lips, a chaste kiss, but not a cold one like the ones Edward had occasionally deigned to give her under the watchful eyes of his mother. He pulled back and examined her eyes, as if asking if he should continue. But she was still too scared to even look at him, turning her eyes down to the floor once more. 

Untangling his fingers from her hair, both hands moved to the laces at her back, fumbling at the ties. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he walked behind her and began to forcefully untie the strings. The rush of cool air brought goose pimples to her back, which Richard playfully traced as he exposed more and more skin until he reached the top edge of her shift. The ties undone, he pushed the dress off of her shoulders, letting it fall and pool around her feet. She quickly shucked off her shoes and stepped out of the wide circle of her dress, turning to face Richard again. Her trembling had only increased in the course of his ministrations, so that now her entire body shook, so hard that Richard could obviously see the rippling through the thin fabric of her shift. 

“Anne,” Richard murmured, placing his large, warm hands on her upper arms, “what is the matter?”

“I must be cold, I suppose,” she stuttered, dropping her eyes off of his face once again. 

“Look at me,” he commanded lightly, searching for a glance from her pale blue eyes. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” she lied through her teeth, resisting the urge to shift her gaze again. 

He kissed her again, with slightly more intensity, and Anne wanted so much to kiss him back, but her dread held her back. As he did so, he moved his hands up to her shoulders, pushing the straps of her shift off and letting it begin to fall. 

Anne flew backwards, nearly falling on her backside as she did, her hands clutched at her breasts to keep the thin fabric from falling away and exposing her to him. Horrid memories of Edward gleefully pulling her shift from her body, shredding it, leaving welts and bruises behind, plagued her as she pulled the shift back up onto her shoulders. She looked up at his shocked face with tears pricking at her eyes before falling to the ground, sobs shaking her small body. 

She did not know what she expected him to do. Shun her, maybe. Or, as she feared so desperately, throw her on the bed and force himself on her. As much as she hated the thought, she almost wished he would do that and prove once and for all that all men were as horrible as Edward, completely shattering any dream she had of him as a gentle, kind lover. 

What she certainly didn’t expect was for him to walk over to her shaking form and gather her in his arms, gently wiping the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. 

“I’m sorry, Richard,” she cried, “I am so sorry.” She tried to scramble out of his embrace, but his arms only tightened around her.

“Will you tell me, truly, what is the matter now?” he asked, his dark gray eyes filled with sympathy and concern. 

“I just, I can’t do this, not after Edward, not after he… Richard, it hurt so much, I don’t want to hurt anymore,” she finally blurted out, her voice tinged with hysteria. 

Anger clouded Richard’s eyes as he tightened his grip around her, audibly gritting his teeth. She felt him exhale a shaky breath before rubbing slow circles into her back and laying her head on his shoulder with gentle strokes to her hair.

“I am sorry you had to go through that, Anne,” she felt him say more than she actually heard him. “I am sorry that your father thought it right to marry you to that monster and that he could … do that to you.”

He pressed a kiss to her cheek before pulling back to look her in the eye. “But you are safe here. He is gone and he will never hurt you again. And I will never hurt you, not intentionally. This room, this bed, is supposed to be your home. I am supposed to be your home. And I want to be your home, if you will let me.”

Relief flooded her completely as her heart almost began to ache for the love that she felt for him. Before she even thought, her lips hungrily attacked his, as she clung to him for dear life. She allowed her feelings to take over, forgetting propriety as she gently flicked her tongue over his lips. His mouth opened and their tongues met, dancing together as they both explored each other’s mouths. She nipped at his lips, eliciting a low groan from him. She paused, pulling back slightly in her puzzlement, but his hands at the back of her head pulled her to him again, as he took control over the kiss. He gently bit at her lips, sending shivers through her body that seemed to pool between her legs. Her hands moved from their position tangled in his black curls to the hem of his shirt, quickly pulling it over his head. She ran her hands greedily over his chest, feeling each ridge of muscle, each scar. Her hands stilled when his lips found their way to her neck, as a surprisingly loud moan spilled from her mouth. Her cheeks turned scarlet as she glanced at him shyly, having to bite back giggles. He looked down at her with a slight smile on his lips and such deep love shining in his eyes. 

She untangled herself from his embrace, lifting to her feet and pulling him up after her. She guided his hands to her shoulders, placing them over the straps of her shift. “I’m ready now,” she whispered. “I want you to undress me, Richard.”

He kissed her again before gently guiding the straps over her shoulders and letting the gown fall to the floor. She resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest as Richard’s eyes stayed on hers, as if he was waiting for her permission.

“Look at me, Richard,” she commanded. He did as she said, and sucked in a quick breath as he eyes took in her curves.

“You are beautiful, my Anne,” he breathed, pulling her to him again. “So beautiful.”

She pulled in a breath as her bare breasts met his chest, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. His hands slowly trailed from her shoulders down her back, leaving rows of goose pimples behind, before stopping at the base of her bottom and pulling her flush to him. She could feel him pressed hard against her stomach and hurriedly moved her hands from his shoulders down to the laces of his breeches. It was his turn to suck in a shaky breath as her trembling hands undid the ties and pushed the fabric off over his hipbones. He stepped out of the discarded clothing and they stood, arms around each other, chests heaving together, simply breathing. 

“If you wish to stop, tell me. We do not need to consummate tonight,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You are far too kind to me, my Richard,” she replied, placing her hand lightly on his cheek. “I don’t want to stop. I want you, Richard.”

She took his hand and led him to the bed. She climbed up onto the mattress, sinking back amongst the many pillows. Richard followed her, lying by her side. He kissed her again, his hand finding her breast and gently teasing the pert nipple. Her breath caught again in her chest and she threw her head back at the pleasure. His lips attacked the exposed skin of her neck and she moaned at the sensation, her legs spreading slightly. His hand moved from her breast, whispering over the pale skin of her stomach, but he stopped before he reached the place where all of these glorious sensations were gathering. She opened her eyes, looking over at him still lying by her side. 

“Richard, I’m ready,” she said, confusion clear on her face, “You can… um… begin.”

“Oh, my dear, I would kill him all over again if I could,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand. 

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” she asked frantically, starting to sit up and move away from him. He caught her arm before she could move too far. 

“My sweet, beautiful Anne, you did nothing wrong. It only grieves me that he made you think you could only lie there.”

Before she could think, he had flipped them so that she sat straddling his waist as he looked up at her from among the pillows.

“I am not the only one who is supposed to enjoy this. I want you to enjoy it too. So I want you to determine what we do. I will guide you, but I want you to guide me too. I want you to tell me what you want. Alright?”

Instead of replying, she leaned down to kiss him, slowly pushing her wetness down on his waist as she did. She groaned in his mouth as she did so, and her groan was met by one of his own.  
“Show me what to do,” she breathed against his lips. 

Kissing her once more, he placed his hands on either side of her hips. He gently lifted her and shifted her back until her opening was waiting over him. “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked. 

She squirmed against him, whimpering, “Yes, Richard, I’m ready.”

“This may hurt, my darling Anne. But the pain will soon be over. I promise.”

He slowly lowered her down onto him. She held her breath as tears pricked her eyes. 

“Anne, are you alright? We can stop if it hurts too much,” he quickly stated, seeing the pained look on her face. 

“No, Richard,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I just need a moment.”

They stayed there for a few seconds, before Anne began to slowly move her hips around him. “I’ve just never felt this full,” she breathed. Richard had to resist the urge to smirk at the compliment she didn’t even know she had given him, but all desire to smirk was forgotten when she began to ride him, plunging herself down on him faster and harder than even he had expected. He struggled to keep himself from bucking his hips up to meet her, but he knew he needed to let her direct this. It was the only way she could begin to heal with him.

Anne had never felt more complete as she did with Richard in that moment. Feeling the control she had over his body and over her own felt liberating. A smile toyed at her lips as she leaned over to kiss him, clutching his hand and intertwining their fingers. Placing her other hand on the bed next to his head, she began to move faster, the tingling sensation only growing in her stomach until she thought she would explode. Moans spilled from her mouth as she strained against him. She pulled his hand up to her breast, kissing him hungrily as he twisted her nipple between his fingers. He pushed up towards her and captured her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around until Anne was reduced to whimpers. 

But when Anne increased the pace even more, Richard threw his head back against the pillows. “Anne, Anne, Anne,” he breathed her name over and over, until she felt him shutter beneath her, spilling himself into her. 

She began to move off of him, but his hands held her where she was. “I know you’re close, Anne. I can feel it. You can give in. You’re safe here. Give in to me.”

He guided her to rock her hips again, shifting so that he reached deeper into her than before. She threw her head back as Richard pulled his hand from hers and caressed her breast. Her eyes flew open in shock when his fingers moved between her folds, finding the exact spot where all of her tension had built the entire time. 

“Richard!” she nearly screamed as waves of pleasure broke over her, leaning down to kiss him frantically as the sensation continued to pulse through her. Lifting off of him, she collapsed at his side, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

“I love you, Richard,” she whispered, nestling against his side.

“I love you, Anne,” he replied, kissing her cheek. “Welcome home.”


End file.
